Chapter 2
"Mr. Yeonho? Mr. Choi? Can you hear me?"
A voice seemed to echo from far away, cutting through the thick fog clouding his mind.
It felt like he was dreaming, trapped underwater where every sound was muffled and distant.
Slowly, like a machine powering back up, sensation began to return to his limbs.
Fingers twitched against the crisp white sheets, and a dull, heavy ache settled deep in his bones, throbbing most sharply across his back and shoulders.
He let out a low groan, the sound barely managing to pass his dry lips.
"Mr. Choi? You're awake! Can you open your eyes?"
Forcing his heavy eyelids to lift felt like moving mountains.
The blinding white light of the ceiling stung his vision, and he blinked rapidly until the blurs resolved into shapes.
A plain, sterile ceiling came into focus. As he turned his head slowly, the rest of the room followed.
He was lying in a hospital bed.
To his left stood a man in a white coat, holding a clipboard, and beside him, a young woman was leaning over the bed, her face pale and etched with worry.
"I don't think he's well enough yet, Doctor. Look at him… please, do something!"
The woman's voice trembled, thick with an emotion Yeonho couldn't quite place through the haze.
"Take it easy. Let him adjust." The doctor's voice was calm and steady.
Yeonho tried to push himself up, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his skull, making him wince and fall back against the pillows.
Machines beside the bed beeped rhythmically, monitoring his vitals.
He looked down at himself, seeing the tubes and wires attached to his skin, confusion swelling in his chest.
"Where… What happened? Who are you?" he croaked out, his voice sounding rough and unfamiliar to his own ears.
The young woman beside the bed gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
She reached out and grabbed his hand, her grip tight and desperate. Her palm felt cold and clammy against his.
"Don't you remember me? Yeonho, it's me… It's Lucy."
Her eyes searched his face frantically, looking for any spark of recognition.
Yeonho slowly shook his head. The slate in his mind felt wiped clean, blank and empty.
He looked at her face, at the doctor, and back at the room. Nothing looked familiar.
"I… I don't remember. I don't remember anything."
"Hmm." The doctor adjusted his glasses, jotting something down on his notepad.
"It seems you are suffering from retrograde amnesia. It's a defensive response from the brain, likely caused by severe physical and psychological trauma."
"Trauma?"
Yeonho frowned, trying to sit up again, slower this time.
"What are you talking about? What happened to me?"
The doctor paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Mr. Choi… you were brought here because you attempted to end your own life. This isn't the first time. Your mental state has been very unstable for quite a while. Last night, you were found unconscious, having tried to hang yourself."
Yeonho stared at him, his mind going completely blank.
The words didn't make sense. They sounded like a plot from a tragic drama, not something he would do.
"That's… impossible. I would never…"
"We were too late… I thought we lost you."
Lucy sobbed, clutching his hand tighter, tears spilling over her lashes and running down her cheeks.
"I was so scared… You can't do that again, Yeonho. You just can't."
Yeonho looked at her, then back at the doctor. The reality of the situation felt heavy and suffocating.
"Why?" he whispered, more to himself than to them. "Why would I… do that?"
"It is better not to force it right now."
The doctor said gently.
"The memories might return slowly, or they might stay hidden for a while. But knowing the details might trigger more distress or PTSD. For now, it is safer for you to remain in the dark."
Yeonho leaned back against the pillows, feeling exhausted.
Despite the lack of memories, one thing remained crystal clear in his mind—his name. Choi Yeonho. It echoed steadily, an anchor in the chaos.
'Choi Yeonho… That's me. I know that.'
But everything else was just… gone.
"I will leave you two to talk. I'll check back later."
The doctor nodded at them before turning and walking out of the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
As the sound of the doctor's footsteps faded away, the room fell into a heavy silence.
Lucy wiped her face with the back of her hand, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She offered him a small, shaky smile.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to cry. It's just… I was really worried."
She let go of his hand and smoothed the bedsheets nervously.
"Since you don't remember… My name is Lucy. I'm… I'm your co-worker."
"Co-worker?" Yeonho looked at her. She looked incredibly young, barely past her teens.
Seeing her looking so nervous and upset, Yeonho found himself softening slightly.
"You look… really young. Do we work at the same place?"
Lucy hesitated, her gaze darting away for a moment. "Yes… we do. It's… it's a service industry job."
"What kind of service?" Yeonho pressed, sensing she was hiding something.
Lucy bit her lip, looking torn. She hesitated for what felt like an eternity before finally whispering, her voice barely audible.
"We work as… escorts. Or… courtesans."
Yeonho stared at her, the words taking a moment to register.
"Courtesans?Escorts? You mean… selling my body?"
"…Yes." Lucy avoided his eyes completely, staring at the floor. "I know it's shameful. But it's the only way we can survive here."
The revelation hit Yeonho hard, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over his head.
Him? Working as prostitute? But looking at the luxurious private hospital room and the expensive equipment around him, confusion arose again.
'If I'm just a poor escort, how can I afford this kind of treatment?'
"There's something you aren't telling me."
Yeonho said firmly, looking straight at her.
"If I'm just an employee, why am I in such a high-class hospital? Who's paying for this?"
Lucy flinched, her expression giving everything away.
She looked around nervously before answering in a quiet voice. "There is… someone. He takes care of everything. He is… our boss. And also… your patron."
"Patron?"
"Mr. Han. Han Jiseok. He is a very wealthy and powerful man. He… takes care of you. That's why you have all this." Lucy gestured vaguely around the room.
Yeonho felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him.
'A wealthy patron? So I was basically kept as a pet?'
"Tell me everything. Don't leave anything out. I need to know who I am right now."
Lucy took a shaky breath and began to explain.
She told him how he came from Korea, how he had ended up stranded in this foreign country due to various misfortunes, and how Mr. Han had taken a liking to him and brought him under his wing.
But she also told him about his deteriorating mental state, the depression, and the suicide attempts.
"He liked you very much… That's why you were his favorite. But… you were never happy. No matter what he gave you…" Lucy trailed off, looking sad.
'So I was a kept man. A high-class companion for rich people.'
Yeonho thought, listening to her words.
'And apparently, I was so miserable I tried to kill myself multiple times.'
"Did I ever… mention a family? Someone named Hana?"
Yeonho suddenly asked, the name lingering at the edge of his consciousness, faint and unclear.
Lucy shook her head.
"No… you never talked about them. Whenever anyone asks, you'd get angry or depressed. I think… I think they are the reason you ended up here."
Yeonho fell silent. The picture painted by Lucy was dark and tragic.
He was a man who had lost everything, far away from home, surviving by selling his body, and was deeply unhappy.
But despite the despair, a strange calmness settled over him. It felt like he was listening to the story of a stranger.
"Damn it…"
Yeonho pressed his palms against his face, rubbing the exhaustion away.
"Just… give me a moment. I need to think."
Lucy nodded silently, giving him space.
Suddenly, a sharp, piercing pain shot through his temples, making him gasp.
It felt like someone was driving a hot needle into his brain.
"Ah—!"
"Yeonho! Are you okay?"
Images flashed violently behind his closed eyelids. A dimly lit office. Himself, kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down his face, screaming into a phone. Scissors. Blood.
Then, a man rushed forward, grabbing him, his face blurry but filled with anger and frustration.
The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Yeonho gasping for air, his heart pounding wildly.
He instinctively reached for his wrist, checking the skin. It was smooth and unmarked. No scars.
"Yeonho? Talk to me! Do you want me to call the doctor?" Lucy looked terrified.
"No… I'm fine. Just… a headache."
Yeonho took deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.
"Just leave me alone for a bit, okay?"
Lucy looked hesitant but eventually nodded. "Okay… I'll be outside. Call me if you need anything."
She stood up and walked out, leaving Yeonho alone in the quiet room.
He lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. But they were like shards of glass—sharp, painful, and impossible to put back together.
Eventually, exhaustion took over, and he drifted off into a restless sleep.
—————————————————---
That night, sleep brought no peace.
Yeonho found himself standing in an endless void of darkness. There was no sound, no light, nothing but blackness stretching out forever.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" He called out, but his voice seemed to be swallowed up instantly.
Suddenly, a bright light flared up in front of him, projecting an image like a giant screen.
He saw a luxurious dining room. The table was set with expensive silverware and crystal glasses.
Standing there was a woman with long black hair, looking elegant and composed.
"Brother… you really don't understand, do you?" She spoke, her voice sounding sweet but laced with ice.
Opposite her stood a young man.
Yeonho watched the scene unfold, feeling like an observer.
He looked at the young man standing there.
Long strands of pale, golden hair cascaded down his back and shoulders, some strands falling loosely across his forehead in a messy yet ethereal way.
He was facing the woman, his back straight. Yeonho couldn't see his face clearly from this angle.
"I did everything to help you, brother. Yet you treat me like this?" The woman said, her voice trembling with feigned hurt.
The young man didn't answer. He just stood there, his silence seeming to anger her more.
"Answer me! After everything I've done for you!"
Then, she moved. Her hand swung out, slapping him hard across the face.
SMACK!
The sound echoed loudly.
The young man stumbled slightly from the impact, his head turning to the side. The light caught his face, and Yeonho felt his breath hitch.
Even in the dim light, his skin looked incredibly fair and smooth, like polished porcelain glowing softly, then his lashes, long and beautiful.
His lips were naturally pink, almost a soft red, full and well-defined, contrasting sharply against his pale skin.
But the most striking feature was his eyes—deep, mesmerizing blue, looking cold and void of emotion despite the tears brimming at the corners.
"Why can't you just disappear?" Hana spat out, her expression twisting into something ugly and malicious.
"You're the one who should disappear, Hana." The young man's voice was low and calm, terrifyingly calm.
Hana's eyes widened in rage.
She grabbed a heavy crystal glass from the table and smashed it against the edge.
Sharp pieces scattered everywhere. Before anyone could react, she grabbed one of the shards and drove it deep into her own arm.
"AHHH! HELP ME! He's trying to kill me!" She screamed, falling to the floor, clutching her bleeding arm.
The doors burst open immediately. Servants, security guards, and several men rushed into the room.
"What happened?! Hana!"
"Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?!"
Hana sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at the young man standing frozen near the table. "He… he lost his mind… He tried to kill me…"
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
Everyone turned to look at the young man. The expressions on their faces ranged from shock to disgust to open hostility.
"You monster!"
"How could you do this to your own sister?!"
Two of the men stepped forward and grabbed him roughly, pinning his arms behind his back.
The young man didn't fight back. He just stood there, looking at his sister lying on the floor, playing the victim perfectly, tears streaming down her face.
"Take him away! Get him out of here!" His father shouted.
.
.
.
.
"NO! STOP!"
Yeonho woke up with a gasp, sitting upright in bed. His whole body was covered in cold sweat, and his heart was hammering against his ribs as if trying to escape.
He looked around frantically, realizing he was back in the hospital room.
It was still quiet, and the only light came from the lamp beside the bed.
"Just a dream…" He breathed out, running a shaking hand through his hair.
But the images felt so real, so vivid, as if he was reliving them.
'Hana… Who is she? And who was that beautiful young man she was accusing?'
The realization that he didn't recognize the main person in his own nightmare made the confusion even worse.